


Paint

by D_elfie



Series: Prompted Works [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drug Addiction, Gen, Recovery, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 17:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16412675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_elfie/pseuds/D_elfie
Summary: Cullen's in addiction recovery





	Paint

**Author's Note:**

> Wellperhaps was nice enough to once again give me a prompt word. Somehow I turned "Paint" into angst.

“Cullen!” There was knocking on his door. “Come on!”

“Go away!” Cullen groaned. He rolled over on his small bed to face the wall. Curled up fetal, arms wrapped around his head, Cullen tried to wish the world away.

“It’s paint night! Come on! It’ll be fun!” The chipper female voice said through the door. Then it sobered. “You know they’ll come get you and make you participate.”

“Let them,” Cullen said sullenly. 

“Fine. Be that way.” The previously jovial woman now sounded like she was pouting. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With a huff, Cullen flopped over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He normally enjoyed paint night. It was fun to be creative. He’d never had a chance to be creative when he was in the military. But tonight... Cullen lifted his hand to eye level and watched as it shook. He gritted his teeth trying to control the quivering but that seemed to make it worse. 

He sighed and dropped his arm to his side. It thudded when it hit the thin mattress.

The ceiling seemed to swirl above him and Cullen started feeling ill. With a groan, he curled back into a fetal position.

He was beyond the time it was supposed to take for withdrawal symptoms recede. Why did he continue to feel the need and the pain of its loss? Why wasn’t he strong enough to make it stop?

There was a new knock at the door and then the door swung inward.

“Cullen,” nurse Cassandra said from the doorway. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m just not feeling well.”

“Symptoms again?” Cassandra walked into the room and stood by the bed, arms crossed.

“Yes,” Cullen replied through clenched teeth. He felt like he was going to bring up his breakfast and it took all his will to keep it down. 

“Come to the common room and try to paint. Getting up and moving around will give your body an outlet and painting will give you something to focus on. Come on. Up.” She leaned down and took hold of Cullen’s elbow. 

Cullen allowed himself to be guided up. At first the room spun, and he was sure he was going to paint Cassandra’s hideously functional shoes with the contents of his stomach. 

He didn’t. 

They walked slowly down the hallway to the common room where everyone else was already set up and painting. Tonight’s theme was obviously night skies. Cullen was always intrigued by the differences between each painting when all the patients were given the same theme. 

There was one unclaimed easel, so Cullen settled him on the empty stool. He picked up a paintbrush and his hand shook.

“Cas,” Cullen whispered before Cassandra could step away. “I can’t do this.”

Cassandra paused as she was turning. She crouched down and took the brush from Cullen’s hand and set it aside. She took the hand and guided it to the canvas.

“There is always another way. Don’t focus on the barriers, focus on the solutions.”

It took a moment for Cullen to understand but once her point sunk in, a small smile snuck onto his lips. He nodded. The canvas blurred as he blinked back tears. It was all too much.

“Thanks, Cas,” he said hoarsely as Cassandra walked away. 

It felt childish to paint with his fingers. Adults didn’t paint with their fingers... but it also felt good. The paint under his fingertips, the rough surface of the canvas – it was a relief to focus on those sensations and push down the shaking and fear. 

By the end of the class, Cullen could breathe evenly. He didn’t know when it has stopped, but his hands were steady. He felt... stable. 

Back in his room, he curled back up on the bed and let out a loud sigh.  _Don’t focus on the barriers, focus on the solutions_. Cullen replayed Cassandra’s words. They were so simple, but so poignant.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow he’d try that. Tomorrow he’d succeed in controlling his addiction. 

Cullen curled into a fetal position and hugged his knees. He took a deep breath and swallowed down the tears he shed each night. 

Not tonight.

Focused on progress, Cullen fell asleep without shedding a tear for the first time since entering the addiction clinic.  


End file.
